JESSAN ~ A TALE OF WIZARDRY Chapter 2
Copyright 2006 Trewin Greenaway ^' All Rights Reserved
To learn more about me and the genesis of this tale, visit my website http://www.cronnex.com/ .
I hope to post a new chapter every Saturday from now on. If you're enjoying the story, do let me know!
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Chapter 2
Despite the roughness of the track, the trader kept at his fast pace and I was afraid I would end up choking on my piece of gruel if I failed to finish it while I still had some wind. So, gobble it down I did, only opening my other hand to view Faryn's gift after the last morsel was on its way to my belly.
This was soon enough, and when I examined my present I discovered it was a miniature dolphin, cunningly carved of wood and rubbed with oil to give it a soft glow. Faryn had also inserted a tiny plug in it of a different, darker wood, the end of which had a hole drilled in it so that I could tie it around my neck. The dolphin is a sign of good luck to fishermen and others who go to sea, and the wish that came with this one warmed my heart. I held it tightly in my hand for a league or so before I finally tucked it safely away in my pocket.
The road, at least the part that led to our village, was little more than a path, for most trade along the coast was done by boat. This was so much the case that I'd never in my life seen a horse and only rarely a pack mule. Only the poorest of pedlars would arrive by foot, shouldering a pack frame.
In any case, for lack of such travel, the track was too narrow for two to walk abreast and talk, at least if they were both loaded with packs. Not that the trader showed the slightest inclination to chat. But if I'd been able, I'd have tried anyway. If he was to be the only person I was to know in the world, I wished I might get to know him better or at least have him answer some questions.
For one thing, I'd begun to wonder what had happened to the pack boy who had preceded me. It was unlikely one had come with the trader to our village--for if so, what happened to him?--and if not, had Osfalt expected to hire one when he got there? He couldn't be very bright if he had--a fact that, admittedly, went along with his general dishevelment. Had I been taken as a bondslave by an idiot? This was worrisome and could be resolved by getting him to speak a single sentence, if it were long enough.
Engrossed in such thoughts, I failed to notice a root reaching across the path, tripped on it, and, with a cry, pitched forward onto the ground, the back on top of me. I'd hardly time to grasp what had happened before Osfalt, who had spun around at my cry, was yanking me to my feet. I'd badly stubbed my toes and skinned my knee.
The trader expressed not a word of sympathy. He merely glanced at my wound, which was already oozing blood, and when he saw that I was now limping because of my mashed toes, he merely stepped to the side of the path, pulled out an evil-looking knife, and hacked a length from a sapling. This he thrust in my hands to use as a makeshift staff and then gestured for me to precede him.
I soon understood why he had chosen to walk behind me, for the moment I began to lag from his fast pace he struck my pack with his own staff to urge me onward. And so I hobbled along, as league followed upon league, miserable and in pain. And soaking wet, too, from the soft rain, I should add, although the sun had begun to break through the clouds, and, as the next hour passed, chased them all away.
This part of the path, which was the furthest I'd ever travelled on it before, passes around a point, where the land extends out into the sea. As we approached its tip, I began to hear a loud sound, as if someone was pounding on an enormous drum. What made this even stranger was that it seemed to be coming from the sea. Since we had a clear view of the water through the trees, it was only a matter of time before its source came into view--a huge war galley, with both a sail and two long ranks of oars, one above the other. These moved swiftly and rhythmically in unison, propelling the galley along at great speed. The drum was setting the rowers' pace.
It was an utterly amazing sight. I'd never seen such a ship for there was no reason for one to come up our coast, since beyond our village the mountain range came down to the sea and the kingdom, we knew, did not extend beyond it. It was trimmed with red paint and black, and a large witch eye had been painted on this side of the prow, matched, I guessed, with one on the other side. These were things no one I knew would dare put on a boat, for they were meant to cast a spell of misfortune upon any who gazed on them. "An evil thing to paint even on a war ship, for it does not discriminate friend from enemy," I thought to myself, but unintentionally spoke the words aloud.
"Those on that ship have no friends and don't care what you think of them, boy," Osfalt answered, adding with heavy sarcasm, "If you have gazed at this fearsome thing to your heart's content, we had best be on our way--and quickly."
Of course, I hadn't in the least seen as much as I wished, but I took his meaning and reluctantly tore my eyes away from the ship. Even as he spoke, I had just laid eyes on the squad of soldiers standing on the deck and could see cages in which large dark shapes were pacing back and forth--what exactly, the ship was too far out to sea to make out.
This time, the trader took the lead. Our brief rest had given me back some strength and something else to think about besides my aching feet. So I was better able to keep up with him, especially since he was tiring himself. This stretch of the track wandered from the sight of the ocean and into a dark wood. Since all the large trees near our village had long been felled for lumber, I'd never encountered so many crowded together, letting so little sunlight through their leaves that no underbrush could grow beneath them. The air grew stuffy and smelled of baked wood, and the path, although carpeted with dead leaves, was ruptured everywhere everywhere both by a tangle of tree roots and by rocks that these had thrust to the surface.
I was now dizzy with tiredness and feared that I might actually faint. Furthermore, I was drenched in sweat and the villainous weight of the pack ate into my shoulders. When we finally came to a stream, I decided, permission or no, to slip off the pack and fling myself down to drink.
But the trader had anticipated this and grabbed me by the arm. "Not here, not yet," he hissed. He held me tightly for a moment while he looked both up and down the trail, cocking his head and listening carefully. He them pulled me away from the path and into the forest. Now the way was truly rough and it was all I could do to keep my balance, the weight of the pack threatening to topple me as we clambered between the trees. The trader clung to my arm, at once supporting me and propelling me along.
We went like this for several minutes, me dragging more with every step, until I could hear the splashing of falling water, We stepped out of the trees into a clearing, beyond which a rocky ledge barred our way. A small waterfall tumbled over it a little to the side of this, forming a pool bordered by mossy rocks. From this ran the stream that we had just encountered where it crossed our path.
As I stared at all this, the trader said in a different, lighter voice, "Go and drink and then clean your wounds." Needing no further urging, I pulled off my shirt and stepped carefully into the pool, which, as I waded in, rose above my waist. The cold water felt delicious to my hot and tired body, and I drank my fill from the falling water. Then I fell backwards and floated in the pool, only my head above the water.
The trader was watching me with amusement. Then, as I watched, he, too, cast off his robes, revealing an astonishingly young and supple body. But that was only the first of the surprises. He pulled the filthy patch from his eye and then, with both hands, yanked off the beard, and then the matted tangle of grey, greasy hair.
What emerged from all this was a young man only a few years older than Faryn, with a slender, well-knit body, close-cropped brown hair, and an appealingly lively face.
He waded in the pool, laughing at my astonishment. As I had, he went to the waterfall and drank, then turned, dived into the water and swam over to me. His eyes were still sparkling from his laughter.
"Alfrund, herbalist, at your service," he said.
My mouth opened, but it was so full of questions that none could squeeze their way past the others. He laughed again. "Not now," he said. "Enjoy this rest, because it must be a short one." And with that he stood up and waded back to where our packs and clothing lay. He opened them up, one by one, and emptied them onto the ground, until slabs of salt fish lay all about. He also removed both his knife, well sheathed, and a small pouch from his robes, setting these beside with my bundle of clothing.
Alfrund gathered together a small pile of twigs and removed a firestone from his pouch. He stroked it with a pointed piece of iron and soon had a small fire burning brightly. He began ripping his robe into strips and fed the fire with this, then the sacks, then the beard and the wig, which gave off an awful stench. He backed away, holding his nose, and gestured at me to come out of the water.
When I came to him, he smiled at me and said, "And your name is...?"
"Jessan, fisherboy," I replied, adding, "at your service."
He laughed and, extracting from his pouch a folded piece of paper, offered it to me, saying, "Well, then, to prove you are who you say, read this--for the true Jessan, I have been told, knows his letters."
I took the note without speaking and opened it. I was half afraid that my reading skills had left me from long disuse, but I parsed these simple words easily enough.
Dear Jessan, the person who gives you this note is to be trusted as you would trust me. Do as he says without too many questions, for he has not been told many answers. I will explain everything when my old eyes are eased by the sight of you. Your loving granny, Grysta
I passed the note to Alfrund after I finished it. In even those few words I clearly heard the sound of Grysta's voice, which greatly eased my fears. Alfrund read the note, smiled, and dropped it into the fire.
"Jessan," he said, "I have other clothes hidden for us on the far side of the pool. Is there anything in your bundle that you treasure and wish to keep?"
I thought of the sorry collection of ragged stuff it held and shook my head. "I own nothing of any value at all." "You will soon find that that is not true," Alfrund said, picking up and opening my bag and looking inside, "although this stuff...." He tipped its contents into the fire, tossed it in as well, and reached down for my long shirt, my only piece of clothing.
"Ha," he said, reaching into its single pocket, "you will at least want to keep this."
A curse upon my head; I'd forgotten Faryn's gift! "Thank you," I said, reaching over and taking the little carving. "If that had gone into the fire, so would have my heart."
"We had better find you some twine, then," Alfrund said as he gave it to me, "to fasten it safely around your neck. Was that the gift from the one who kissed you goodbye?"
"Faryn," I replied. "My twerë."
"It was a good gift for a parting," Alfrund said, adding, "I mean both the dolphin and the kiss." The fire burnt hotly and then went out, for fabric does not last long in flames. Alfrund and I quickly covered it over with stones, which he had been gathering for that purpose. Then we waded across the pool. He halted me at its further side, while we were still in the water. He drew a small cloth bag from his pouch and opened it, revealing a pungent-smelling crushed herb.
He held this out to me, and when I took it, he reached down and scooped up a small amount of water in one hand and with the other took a generous pinch from the bag, which he sprinkled into his cupped palm. He then mixed it with his finger until it became a sort of green sludge.
This he began wiping on his body, not thickly, but in wet smears. He replenished the paste as he needed to, applying it most generously in his arm pits and around his groin. On a burlier man the result might have inspired fear, but on one as slight as Alfrund, who in build was much like me, it would more likely inspire laughter, and I couldn't help smiling.
"Smile all you want," he said, "for I'm sure you will wear it with more grace than I."
"I'm to do this, too?" I asked. He nodded and retrieved the bag from my hand. "This is dogbane," he said. "Dogs cannot bear it and are compelled to avoid it. It will throw the dogs that are now pursuing us off our trail."
"Dogs?" I asked.
"I fear so," he answered. "You saw them caged on the war galley. They have probably already been sent to hunt us down. They are frightening animals, but those who command them are more terrifying still."
I looked at him in astonishment, my mind swarmed with questions. But, as before, Alfrund cut them short, saying, "Jessan, I know you are desperate for explanations. But the more I tell you the more I put your life in danger. Please let Grysta guide you and trust me and my silence. I will explain everything the moment I can. Meanwhile," and here he gestured with the little sack of dogbane, "hand me the carving and get to work."
So it was that I bent down, caught some water in my cupped palm, made a paste with dogbane, and began a new life. When wet, the dogbane was slick and rubbed easily onto my body. As I smeared it about as I'd seen him do, the scent of it seemed almost revolting, and I hoped it would fade when it began to dry. Still, those huge black creatures had been scary enough when I'd seen them pacing in their cages.
The thought that they were even now racing down the track in hot pursuit.... Stinking to high heaven was nothing if the stench would shake them from our trail. I began to shiver, not only out of fear but because the sun had crossed over us and begun its descent, and its warmth was ebbing with it.
"That's good enough," Alfrund said, pulling the drawstrings to close the bag and returning it to his pouch. "The paste will quickly dry and our new clothing is near." He led me to the rock ledge and we followed it a short way into the forest to a small cave where Alfrund had left two leather packs well covered with brush.
He passed one to me and the first thing I found inside was a long shirt of broadcloth, which I quickly slipped over my head. It was coarsely woven but clean and nicely fitting, and I felt it made some compensation for the dogbane.
The next item I pulled out, a small and flimsy pair of pants made of soft material, puzzled me, for I'd never seen the like. "What are these?" I asked Alfrund, holding them up.
He glanced over. "You are a bumpkin," he said. "Those are small pants, to be worn under your other clothing. In the parts where we are headed, to not wear them is to mark yourself as, well, easy."
Stung by the word "bumpkin," I answered, "Well, I don't need them, then, because the general opinion in my village is that I am easy."
Alfrund laughed. "I already know that," he said, "having seen the sticky residue from your last lovemaking on your belly. It takes more than a cold swim to sluice that away."
I felt myself blushing furiously. "I..., you...," I stammered, but before I could put any words together, Alfrund came over and put his hands on my shoulders.
"Jessan," he said apologetically, "I forgot we hardly know each other. I'm truly sorry. You will find me a merciless tease--but I mean nothing by it other than expecting to be paid back in my own coin. In fact, I was glad to discover that you had someone with whom to say a sweet goodbye. I imagined your life in that village to have been all loneliness and gloom."
I looked back into his eyes and realized that there were tears in mine. "His name is Faryn. I had just that one time with him. And now...." I lowered my head. Alfrund squeezed my shoulders and said, "Then I'm doubly sorry and shall now go wash my mouth with dogbane."
I smiled slightly and answered, "No! You smell bad enough already." I pushed him away and we returned to our dressing. Or, rather, thinking I was dressed, continued to rummage through my pack. In it I was delighted to find a pair of leather sandals, which were strongly made and laced up over my calves.
In our village, common dress for men and women was a long shirt, differing only in length--being short for children, longer for men, and longer still for women. Our dress clothes were exactly the same, except of slightly finer cloth and decorated with embroidery, especially the women's. In bitter cold weather we wore thick woolen leggings and bound our feet in pelts. Leather, since we didn't raise cattle, was an almost unknown luxury, and no one owned a pair of sandals that were a match to these.
Alfrund was dressed as I, except that his shirt was made of much finer stuff and, since he had achieved manhood, it was clasped around his waist with a leather belt. To this he was fitting his knife sheath and fastening his pouch, when he noticed me attempting to puzzle out the lacing of the sandals.
"Let me show you," he said, coming over, "but first...." He drew out his knife and cut a short length from the end of their leather thongs. "Here," he continued, "string your dolphin on this and I will tie it around your neck."
As I did so, he squatted down to tie up my sandals, only to immediately exclaim, "What sort of herbalist am I? Sit on this stone and lift up your leg so that I can examine it." He began to carefully probe around the scraped area on my knee with the tips of his fingers. The gash had long stopped bleeding but the area around it had turned a dark purple, edged with yellow.
"This must be sore, I know, but the wound is clean and a scab is forming; we needn't worry about it," Alfrund said, moving his attention to my foot. He gently moved my toes back and forth as I winced from the pain. "No bones broken, happily," he said, "but it will still make for painful walking. Nothing can be done about that now, because we want to leave no scent but the dogbane. But tonight I will concoct a poultice that will greatly ease the hurt." We headed back to the track, cutting through the forest so that we would reach it far beyond the stream and so some distance from where we had turned off it before. Alfrund had brought out a small bundle that contained thin rounds of coarse flatbread that is eaten by travelers and many people in winter, which is why it is made with a hole in the middle, allowing quantities of it to be hung on a length of twine from the rafters, out of reach of mice and hungry children.
So we gnawed on these for a bit. Then Alfrund asked, "How far before this have you traveled from your village?"
"Not even as far as here," I replied.
"I'm not surprised," he said. "If you have wondered why we have yet to meet a single soul in our travels, it is because no one in their right mind would do so. The mountains often come right down to the sea, and villages like yours are scattered far and wide in the steep narrow valleys between the spurs. We are sticking to this track because our enemy will think we plan to soon steal a boat and they will be wasting time watching for us out at sea. At least on foot we have a chance to hide if they come along behind us.
"We are heading now for the only place of any consequence in these parts, the trading town and seaport called Gedd where your Grysta lives. We have friends waiting for us there, and other things as well, for we have a great distance to travel, and all this is merely the beginning of our journey."
I took hold Alfrund's arm. "I know I'm not to ask questions," I said, "but I think I deserve at least the answer to one. Am I not still your bondslave?"
Alfrund laughed. "I hope that hasn't been on your mind all this time! No. That was just an arrangement that I knew your stepfather would be quite happy to accept." He placed his hand on top of my head, as if blessing me. "Consider yourself now unbound and unenslaved."
I sighed. "I suppose I should be happy to be released so easily. But, in truth, I was just starting to think that having you as my master might not be such a bad thing, at all. So what then am I?"
Alfrund glanced at me. "Somewhere between what you were and what you are to become. There are worse places to be. However, if I cannot yet tell you who you are, I can tell you what to say you are, should anyone ask: my apprentice. You may have to play that role for some time, so once we reach Gedd we will begin to take it seriously. I think you have a quick mind and a good dose of herbalist learning won't do you any harm."
Alfrund let me ponder on this a bit and then seized my shoulder. "Look ahead," he said. "We are about to emerge from this bit of forest back into the open, for now the track runs for leagues along the shore. So, from this point on, no talking. And no thinking, either. Just keep your eyes and ears open. If we are lucky enough to get any warning at all, it will likely require all our alertness to recognize it in time."